Surviving
by Pforte
Summary: After Sirius' death Remus tries to cope with a severe and painful loss. Implied slash. Song fic.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter since the HP universe was created by JKR and consequently belongs to her and her various publishers. I do not own anything remotely related to Iced Earth and their song 'My own savior' either. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's note: **I wrote this at the same time as the last chapter of _Revelation _because killing Sirius was so sad and I had to bring in some hope. This story however is not connected to _Revelation _and can be read independently. The song 'My own savior' is one of my favourite songs and fit in the story very well.  
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Surviving

_My only comfort is in death  
_

He stared blindly out of the window. Rain drops rolled down the glass and it misted under his breath. He felt as foggy as the day was. No clear thought crossed his mind; he was just staring into nothingness, blinking every so often.

He was alone, left behind, bereaved.

Deep down inside, he hurt.

_My only solace, my dying breath_

Breathing was hard lately. Since Sirius had fallen nothing was easy anymore. How strange that something as mundane as breathing could be a continuous struggle, a never-ending battle. His fingers traced a pattern into the blind spot on the window and it took him a while to figure it out.

A name, now a curse, formed on the glass.

_For release, I have prayed_

With an angry gesture he wiped it off. His palm was damp and cold like the day, like his flat, like his insides.

For days he had hoped that the numbness would go away, had participated in Order meetings and had nodded politely when asked whether he was OK.

He had always been a good liar.

Werewolf, beast, abomination, half-breed; Sirius had known and loved him nonetheless.

Sirius, who had fallen.

_Thrown past life, not afraid_

Sirius. Padfoot. Lover. Love.

Sirius had never been afraid of anything, not even after Azkaban. He himself knew fear only too well. Every month he feared the moon. Closeness scared him, too.

What kind of sick joke was this? Why had he survived when all the others were long gone?

Lily with her beautiful smile and her laughing green eyes.

James with his constantly dishevelled hair and his obsession with Lily and Quidditch.

Peter with his round face and nervous fingers.

Sirius with his barking laughter and his painfully sharp tongue.

_Life's a bitch, life's a whore_

He was angry and had been for a long time. Somewhere inside him this anger had been swelling for over a decade, concealed by fake contentment and pragmatism.

_Nothing less, nothing more_

Memories shrouded him.

A hot wet mouth against his own, teeth scraping delicately over his collarbones and his back, grey eyes taunting him, teasing him, desiring him. Hands all over him, black hair tingling against his neck.

He was lost in mediocrity. Everything that was extraordinary about him had already left this world, had fallen through the veil.

_There is nothing she would do for me_

He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing; in and out, in and out.

It was possible. He had survived once, he could do it again.

Nothing would help him this time. There was no righteous wrath that could be nourished. The man he had tried to hate was dead and loved.

_I will end this suffering_

He got up, slowly and stiffly. It was still raining. The world was still moving. Children were laughing in the street, leaping from puddle to puddle.

Fear he had known all his life; fear and grief, frustration and rejection.

Defeat he had not known.

Sirius would scold him for being weak; he would drag him outside and tell him what's what.

_The voices are calling_

Nobody knew what was behind the veil. Harry had heard voices and told him, begged him to let him go and look for his godfather.

Silence was all he heard now, standing in his shower. He turned the water on and a hot jet of life pattered against his too thin body.

Breathing was getting easier; in and out, in and out.

_Out of this life, I'm falling_

It was time for a change. Life with Sirius was gone for good, gone with the man he had loved.

Leaving all their joint memories behind would be a start. No photographs, no shirts, no shampoo, no letters.

Everything important was in his heart anyway.

He wasn't dead yet. He should remember this the next time he felt like fading into the darkness. The wolf would be howling for his mate but it would live.

_There is one choice, that I see_

The towel felt strange against his heated skin; rough and real.

A look in the mirror showed him that not everything was lost. One part of them would reside.

There was still something worth living, something worth fighting for.

Harry. The Order. Dumbledore.

He had made his choice and smiled at his reflection.

_In raging flames, The Dark One awaits_

Voldemort had to be defeated and the debt would be paid. There had to be a reason to go on and if life didn't offer any, he had to find one himself.

He still had his sanity and he wasn't too old or too craven to fight for his freedom, even if his chains had been welcome once.

Warmth surged through him. He got dressed and left for the kitchen. He would eat today and tomorrow and sometimes he would toast to lost friends and missed chances.

_I am my own saviour_

Sirius would never leave him, not really. Not as long as Remus knew how to save himself.

_Fin _

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_Reading is silver, **feedback** is golden.


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